A Shadow in the Glass Episode V: Shifting Shadows
by Esther Huffleclaw
Summary: While Lucia deals with the loss of everything she's ever known, she tries to learn to control the power that is her birthright. And the secret of her birth will change everything.
1. An Icy Feeling

Hanna hunched her shoulders, bending over her tauntaun's neck, cursing this godforsaken planet. She'd like to find the Alliance stylus-pusher who'd decided Hoth was a good place for their base and shove him out here into this wasteland—see how he liked it.

Her commlink buzzed and she fumbled it open with stiff, gloved fingers. "Echo Three to Echo Seven," Lucia's voice crackled into the frigid air. "Do you read me?"

Hanna bent her head, trying to turn away from the wind that was biting at her cheeks. "Loud and clear, kid. What's up?"

"I finished my circle. I don't pick up any life readings."

Hanna snorted. "There isn't enough life on this ice cube to fill the Falcon. The sensors are placed. I'm going back."

"Right," Lucia replied. "I'll see you shortly. There's a meteorite that hit the ground near here, and I want to check it out. It won't take long."

The connection ended, and Hanna shoved the comm into a pocket of the thick fur coat she wore. For someone who had grown up in a desert, Lucia seemed altogether too happy on this hellishly cold planet. Adjusting the goggles that protected her face from the bitter wind, she nudged her tauntaun mount back toward the Rebel base. If Lucia wanted to waste time in the cold, she was welcome to do so, but Hanna was going to get indoors.

* * *

Even out of the wind, this blasted place was freezing. Hanna pulled off her goggles as she slid down from her mount into the whirlpool of chaos that was the base. The Rebels had set up camp in a huge cave carved into the ice, and even with all the activity, it was not approaching being anything she would call livable temperature.

She shoved her goggles into a pocket of her coat and continued deeper into the cave. A makeshift command centre buzzed with activity as she approached. General Rieekan and Prince Alaric were bent over consoles monitoring something. The general straightened up and faced her, an expectant expression on his weathered face. "Solo?"

"No sign of life out there, General." She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to bring the feeling back to her fingers. "The sensors are in place. You'll know if anything comes around."

Rieekan nodded. "Skywalker reported in yet?"

She shook her head. "She's checking out a meteorite." Hopefully, she would get back soon. When the sun set, the cold could get so much worse so very quickly, and Lucia would have no idea what to do.

The general made a face, nodding at the console. "With all the meteor activity in this system, it's going to be difficult to spot approaching ships."

She took a deep breath. Might as well just say it. "General, I've got to leave." She bit her lip, seeing Alaric stiffen. What was his problem?

Rieekan nodded slowly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"There's a price on my head," she said, feeling compelled to explain herself. "If I don't pay off Jabba, I'm dead."

"A death mark's not an easy thing to live with," he agreed. "You're a good fighter, Solo. I hate to lose you." He offered his hand, and she gripped it firmly. She had told Lucia these were good people, and she had meant it. Most of them were, anyway. This had been a good gig, but staying in one place for this long wasn't really her style.

Turning to go, she met Alaric's brown eyes. The prince had turned away from his monitor, and he glared at her, his arms folded tightly across his chest. She inclined her head slightly. Might as well be polite, even if he wasn't. "Well, Your Highness… I guess this is it."

Something flashed in his eyes, gone so quickly she barely registered that it had been there. It may have been anger, or even hurt, but she couldn't be sure. "I guess so." His voice was cold.

Hanna's lip curled. What had she expected from the royal brat? A tearful goodbye? "Well, don't get all mushy on me," she said sharply. "So long, sunshine." She turned on her heel and strode away, resisting the urge to look back. What he thought of her didn't matter. At all.

The click of bootheels on the icy floor hurried after her. "Hanna!" The Prince's imperious voice floated after her on the frigid air.

She stopped, turning back to face him. Allowing sarcasm to flood her voice, she replied, "Yes, Your Highnessness?"

He stopped as well, his face still, yet his eyes burning with conflicting emotions. "I thought you had decided to stay."

Her lips twitched. The Ice Prince had feelings after all. He was practically begging her not to go. "That bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."

"The Alliance needs you, Hanna."

The _Alliance_ needed her? Come on, princeling, you can do better than that. She snorted. "And you?"

He frowned, not quite meeting her eyes. "Me?"

He was so transparent. But she wasn't about to stick around if he wouldn't say it. She raised an eyebrow. "What do _you_ need?"

He looked away. "I don't need anything."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. He almost sounded like he believed that. "Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?"

His jawline tightened, his eyes blazing as his gaze snapped up to meet her. "I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee!"

Anger blazed through her. "I could arrange that!"

He sputtered incoherently, and she turned away, her jaw so tight it hurt, her short nails cutting into her palms. His pride was never going to let him admit how he felt about her. She was better off far away from him. It was way past time to go.

* * *

Hanna clenched her fists tighter as she strode across the hangar toward her ship. "Chewie! Why did you take that apart _now_?"

The wookiee looked up from where he was working on the central lifters, pieces spread out across the slick floor. He grumbled a reply, but she wasn't really listening.

"I'm trying to get us out of here and you pull both of these?" She needed to get away from Alaric and the confusing feelings he created in her. "Put them back together. Now."

"Excuse me, Captain Solo," Lucia's golden protocol droid interrupted. "Might I have a word with you, please?"

What now? She rounded on it and spat out, "What do _you_ want?

It leaned back a bit as if shocked or frightened by her outburst. Good. "It's Prince Alaric. He's been trying to get you on the communicator."

If His Highness cared, he should have told her to her face. "I turned it off. I don't want to talk to him."

"Oh." The droid looked even more taken aback. "Well, Prince Alaric is wondering about Miss Lucia. She hasn't come back."

Hanna frowned, running a hand through her long hair. "She hasn't?"

"Nobody knows where she is," the droid confirmed.

"What do you mean, 'nobody knows'?" Hanna raised her eyes to the vaulted opening; outside, the light was fading quickly as night fell; she imagined she could feel the temperature dropping already. She spun around, shouting, "Deck officer!"

The officer hurried over, nearly losing his footing on the icy floor. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you know where Commander Skywalker is?" she demanded.

He blinked. "I haven't seen her. It's possible she came in through the south entrance."

"It's _possible_?" Hanna shouted. "Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there." An icy feeling was growing in her middle that had little to do with the temperature.

He nodded and hurried away, leaving Hanna to pace back and forth, kicking pieces of the lifters out of her way. Chewie complained but she barely noticed. She ran her hands through her hair and caught her fingers in a snarl. With a frustrated exclamation, she shoved the mass of curls back and tied it at the nape of her neck. As she dropped her hands, the deck officer returned with an assistant, matching worried expressions on their faces.

"Commander Skywalker hasn't come in through the south entrance," he reported. "She might have forgotten to check in." He didn't sound like he believed it, though.

Hanna shook her head. She didn't believe it either. "Not likely. Are the speeders ready?"

He had the grace to look sheepish. "Not yet. We're having some trouble adapting them to the cold."

Hanna blew out a frustrated sigh. "Then we'll have to use tauntauns." Brushing past him, she strode toward the corral. If Lucia got herself killed here, Hanna was never gonna let her forget it. Stupid kid.

He hurried after her, struggling to keep his footing on the slick floor. "But, Captain Solo, the temperature's dropping too rapidly."

"Yes," she snapped, "and my friend's out there in it." She gestured to one of the Rebels who had been assigned to the beasts of burden, and he hurried to harness one for her.

"Your tauntaun'll freeze before you reach the first marker," the deck officer protested.

She rounded on him, taking a step forward so they were nose-to-nose. "Then I'll see you in Hell," she said tightly. He sputtered and backed off. The other Rebel brought her a tauntaun, and she mounted up and left without a backward glance.


	2. Like a Mirage

Lucia groaned softly as consciousness slowly returned and, with it, pain. She remembered speaking to Hanna, then trying to calm her tauntaun, then something hit her in the head. It felt like a balloon filled to bursting had taken up residence inside her skull, the pressure threatening to pop her eyes from their sockets.

She became aware of a steady wet crunching—like someone chewing with their mouth open, but hugely amplified—nearby, and slowly opened her eyes, squinting for a few seconds against the dim light. Her eyes, used to peering into a desert with two suns, quickly adjusted. She was upside down, hanging from the ceiling of a cave of ice, her legs up to the knee frozen inside giant icicles. She wanted to marvel at the cold and the snow, but a sense of urgency thrummed in her veins, telling her she was in danger, and she needed to get out, to get away.

Straining, she bent and reached up toward her feet, but her gloved yet numb fingers only slipped across the surface of the icy shackles. She was well and truly stuck. Panting from exertion, she let herself fall back… and spotted her lightsaber half-buried in the snow. It was out of reach, but it was her only chance. Was it possible? Ben hadn't had time to teach her much of the Force before he died, but she had seen him do similar things. She had no choice but to try.

Closing her eyes and pushing away the pain of remembering him, she stretched her hand out toward the weapon, willing it with every fibre of her being to come to her. She thought she saw it move just a bit, and she squeezed her eyes shut, set her jaw, and commanded it, _Come to me!_

It came. As the hilt struck her palm, she closed her fingers around it, a rush of delighted triumph flooding through her. A high-pitched whine echoed through the cave, and she realized with a sudden chill that the crunching had stopped. She activated the blade and turned just in time as a huge creature loomed over her, curved black horns framing a gaping bloody mouth.

Swallowing the fear that threatened to freeze her more surely than the cold, she swept her blade through the ice imprisoning her boots, and twisted as she fell, managing to land on her feet and flounder around to face her foe. It backed away from the glowing blade, whining deep within its throat. Waving her saber back and forth before her face, she advanced, and it retreated, until she spotted the exit. Certain that its fear wouldn't stop it from following her, she pushed at the creature with the Force, sending it crashing backward into a forest of enormous icicles. It fell with a roar, broken ice raining down over it, and she grinned suddenly, elated at how easily the use of the Force had come to her.

Putting her saber away, she took a deep breath and made her way out into the dark and the cold.

* * *

The wind gusting into the hangar cut through Alaric's thick uniform like a vibroblade. He wrapped his arms around himself, clenching his teeth against their chattering, but he didn't move from his position just inside the entrance, didn't take his eyes from the darkened fields of snow. He never should have let either one of them go out alone.

"Your Highness."

Alaric turned his head to see Major Devlin coming up to stand beside him. Nodding a curt greeting, he turned back to his vigil.

"There's nothing more we can do tonight," the major said, his voice compassionate. "The shield doors must be closed."

Alaric didn't respond. He knew the major was right, but he couldn't speak. Somehow he knew that they were still alive, out there somewhere. And yet as the huge doors slammed shut, the impact echoing around the cavern, he couldn't prevent the thought: If they were still alive, would they survive the night?

* * *

" _Lucia… Lucia!_ "

The sound of her name lifted Lucia's head from the soft pillow of snow where she lay. She tried to focus her eyes to see through the swirling snow. A robed figure crouched beside her, yet somehow the layers of cloth wrapped around him lay still despite the howling wind. "Ben?" Her voice was nearly inaudible to her own ears.

" _You must go to Dagobah._ "

"Dagobah…?" She struggled to keep her eyes open. How was Ben here? No, no. He couldn't be here. Ben was dead. Tears pricked her eyes, but she was so tired. Couldn't he just let her sleep?

" _Look for Jedi Master Yoda there. He will train you._ " Ben wavered like a mirage. Were there mirages in snow? He couldn't really be here.

"You… died…" The bone chilling cold was fading, leaving her adrift in a surprising warmth. Her head was so heavy she couldn't hold it up.

" _Lucia!_ " Ben's voice penetrated sharply through the haze of lethargy that dragged at her.

She groaned, her eyelids too heavy to lift. "Ben…?"

" _Stay awake, Lucia. Stay with me._ " Concern saturated his voice, and she wondered vaguely what he was worried about. She would be fine; she just needed to rest for a bit, and then she would find her way back to the base.

"Lucia!" That wasn't Ben's voice, but she couldn't place it. Hurried footsteps crunched across the snow toward her. "Hang on, kid." Rough hands grabbed her shoulders and shook her, sending sharp pains through her numbed extremities.

Opening her eyes was like trying to lift the engine whole out of a T-16, but she managed it. A figure loomed over her, holding her lightsaber in both hands. She couldn't summon the energy to be afraid, though, and the urgent feeling of danger from before had faded, so she allowed her eyes to drift closed again as footsteps squeaked away from her, and the familiar sound of her lightsaber activating cut through the fog that surrounded her like a thick, soft blanket.

"Phew… I thought they smelled bad on the outside!" She knew that voice, but couldn't remember why. Footsteps squeaked back toward her, then hands slid under her arms, and hauled her out of the soft comforting embrace of the snow. Feebly, she tried to protest, but couldn't make her body obey her.

Grumbling complaints, her captor stuffed her in a small space that stank of something unidentifiable yet rank. Almost like the dead dewback she'd once found rotting in the Jundland Wastes, but somehow… sharper. "This may smell bad, kid, but it will keep you warm until I get the shelter built."

A shelter was a good idea. She should help. But first, she really did have to rest. Just for a little while.

* * *

Hanna woke the next morning to the crackle of the comm. She sat up, groaning. Lucia lay huddled next to her, still breathing, thank the gods, or the Force, or whatever. She picked up the commlink, wincing at the stiffness of her muscles—sleeping in this kriffing cold would do that, even inside a shelter—and flicked it on.

"This is Rogue Two," a voice sounded out into the tent. "Captain Solo, do you copy? Commander Skywalker, do you copy?"

She grinned. "Good morning. Nice of you guys to drop by." Tugging the hem of her coat down and turning her collar up, she stepped out into the bright clear morning to wave in their rescuers, hunching her shoulders against the bright clear cold. It looked like they had figured out the problems with using the speeders in this climate. About time.

* * *

The recovery room in the medical centre was not quite as cold as the rest of the Rebel base, though that wasn't saying much. Lucia lay on the bed, her eyes closed; a bit of colour had returned to her cheeks, but she still looked so frail. Hanna cleared her throat, and the younger girl turned her head, her eyes opening and a smile spreading across her face.

"How are you feeling, kid?" Hanna stepped forward to stand next to the bed. "You look strong enough to pull the ears off a Gundark."

"Thanks to you," Lucia replied, her smile widening.

Hanna sat on the edge of the mattress. "That's two you owe me, Blondie." The door slid open again, and Hanna looked up as Alaric entered. "Well, Your Worship, it looks like you managed to keep me around for a little while longer."

The prince raised an eyebrow, though he looked like he wanted to roll his eyes and sigh dramatically. "I had nothing to do with it. General Rieekan thinks it's too dangerous for any ships to leave the system until we've activated the energy shield."

"That's a good story." Hanna grinned, unable to keep from needling him. "I think you just can't bear to let me out of your sight."

He looked down his nose at her. "You're delusional, Captain."

Oh no. He wasn't going to get away with that. She stood up and took a step forward so they were almost toe-to-toe, a sharp-edged smile on her lips. "Don't try to hide your feelings for me, sweetheart. You're not very good at at."

Anger flared to life in his eyes, washing away the cold pomposity she hated. He was much better looking angry. "Why, you stuck-up… pirate!"

She laughed, delighted at his reaction. "Is that the best you can do, _prince_?"

He held her eyes for a moment, his cheeks flushed with indignation; there was a fire flickering beneath his icy facade, and a matching fire within her rose up in response. But then he turned away, brushing past her. "How are you feeling, Lucia?" he asked, his voice gentle, the anger gone.

Hanna turned back toward the bed, chagrined. Caught up in baiting Alaric, she had nearly forgotten Skywalker. He bent to touch the girl's hand, and Hanna frowned. There was something so very similar about the two of them somehow, though he was dark and she was blonde, though he was a prince and she was a farmgirl.

"I'm fine," Lucia was saying, her cheeks flushing a little as she glanced up at Hanna, then back to Alaric. She bit her lip nervously.

Alaric lifted her hand in both of his. "The Alliance cannot afford to lose you," he said, and Hanna rolled her eyes. He was always about what the Alliance needed. Then he lifted Lucia's hand to his lips and said, "I am delighted to see you looking so well."

Hanna turned away, her fingers curling into fists. _He_ was delighted, not the Alliance. As she tried not to imagine Alaric kissing _her_ hand, looking into _her_ eyes like that, they were interrupted by an alarm, and a voice over the speaker announced, "All personnel report to command centre!"

Alaric left the room in a rush, and Hanna ran after him, cursing under her breath. She would _not_ fall for a stuck up prince who had feelings for someone else!

* * *

A red light flashing in the command centre, not quite in time with the blaring alarm, set Alaric's teeth on edge. General Rieekan waved them over as Alaric and Hanna entered, his face grim. "We've picked up something metallic outside the base in zone twelve, moving east."

Alaric nodded, his mind racing. "Then it couldn't be one of those creatures that attacked Lucia."

"It could be a speeder," Hanna put in. "One of ours?"

Rieekan shook his head. "We don't have anyone out. Wait… we're picking up a transmission."

C-3PO stepped up to the console and listened, his head cocked. "This signal is not used by the Alliance," he said. "It could be an Imperial code." Frack. The Imperials here already.

"It isn't friendly, whatever it is," Hanna said, turning to go. "Chewie and I'll go check it out."

* * *

Hanna's voice crackled over the commlink into the command centre. "Afraid there's not much left."

Alaric pressed his fingers to his forehead, biting back a sigh. Did she just shoot it on sight? "What was it?"

"Droid of some kind," she replied. "I didn't hit it that hard. It must have had a self-destruct."

Kriffing frack. "An Imperial probe droid." They were programmed to self-destruct in order to keep their data out of enemy hands.

Hanna's voice was grim. "Then it's a good bet the Empire knows we're here."


	3. In Trouble

Alaric scanned the group of pilots forming a loose semicircle before him, their faces reflecting determination and fear. "Only two fighter escorts per transport," he said. "The energy shield can only be opened for a short time, so you'll have to stay very close."

"Two fighters against a Star Destroyer?" one of the pilots—Alaric thought his name was Hobbie—asked incredulously.

Alaric shook his head. "The ion cannon will fire several shots to make sure that any enemy ships will be out of your flight path. When you've gotten past the energy shield, proceed directly to the rendezvous point."

They nodded, and a chorus of "okays" rose from the group.

Alaric took a deep breath, trying to shake the feeling that he was sending them to their deaths. "Good luck."

As they dispersed, he stepped up to the console next to General Rieekan where they would coordinate the evacuation. Already, Imperial ships were visible on long range scanners, landing outside the energy shield that protected the base. Stormtroopers would soon be deploying with their AT-ATs and AT-STs in an attempt to get inside the base from the ground. The shield wouldn't keep them out long.

Alliance ships took off, making their way past the Imperials, but there were just so many and not enough time. "We're not getting the transports out fast enough."

Rieekan rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb. "I don't think we can protect two transports at a time."

Alaric closed his eyes for a moment. "We have no choice."

An alarm went off on Alaric's console: the Imperial ground forces would soon overrun the base. He caught a passing aide by the arm. "Evacuate remaining ground staff."

The aide nodded and ran off. Rieekan straightened up. "It's time for us to go as well."

Alaric bent over his monitor, concentrating on the evacuating transports. "Go. I'll be right behind you." He didn't look up, but he heard the general's boots as the other man hurried away. A minute or so later, booted footsteps rushed up behind him, and he looked up, his mouth open to tell the general not to worry; that he was on his way, but it wasn't Rieekan.

Hanna Solo stumbled into the control room as an explosion rocked the base, sending chunks of ice crashing down from the ceiling, obliterating a couple of abandoned consoles. She caught herself on Alaric's station. "You all right?" she shouted over the noise.

"Why are you still here?" he demanded, his fingers tightening on the edge of his console. "You got your clearance to leave."

She grinned crookedly. "Don't worry. I'll leave. But you're coming with me."

He stared at her, finally realizing that the floor was shaking under his feet. He was the last one there. She had come back for him.

She grabbed his arm, shouting over the rumbling, "Come on!"

The loudspeaker crackled. "Imperial troops have entered the base."

"That's it." She pulled him away from the console, and pushed him toward the nearest exit. "Let's go."

They ran down the hallways, helping each other stay afoot. It felt like the whole base was coming down around them. They should have left long ago. Why the hell had Hanna come back for him? Anger warred with gratitude within him, but he had no time to think about that now.

They burst out into the hangar and Chewbacca, waiting by the Millennium Falcon, let out a roar when he spotted them. Alaric couldn't understand the Wookiee's speech, but his impatient hand gestures were a clear 'hurry up!'

They hit ramp at a dead run, Chewbacca right behind them, as chunks of ice rained down, rattling on the roof of the ship. Hanna threw herself into the pilot's chair beside Chewbacca and Alaric strapped himself into the jump seat behind her. Thankfully, no one noticed his shaking hands and he folded them together, angry at himself for such a display of weakness.

Hanna and Chewbacca hunched over the controls, frantically throwing switches. "How's this?" Hanna asked her co-pilot.

The wookiee shook his head, his growls a frustrated negative.

This was so not the time for engine problems. "Would it help if I got out and pushed?" Alaric didn't mean to sound quite as acidic as that came out, but really.

"It might," Hanna shot back, but with little heat. She was too focused on what she was doing to pay much attention to him.

"We're never going to make it past the blockade," he muttered, clenching his hands on the arms of his seat. He was never going to get a chance to talk to Hanna, to yell at her for coming back for him, to let her know that his life was not worth more than hers—that, in fact, it was the other way around.

Hanna pushed her glorious dark hair back from her face and glared at him. "This baby's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart."

Movement outside the main window caught his attention, and Alaric groaned. A squad of stormtroopers had entered the hangar, and now they were setting up a huge anti-ship gun. This was it—this was the end.

"Come on! Come on!" Hanna said, her voice strained. "Switch over. Let's hope we don't have a burnout."

The rumble of the engines starting vibrated up through Alaric's feet and legs, and Hanna grinned at him over her shoulder.

"See?" she exulted. "Punch it, Chewie!"

* * *

The familiar shape of the Millenium Falcon roared by overhead as Lucia climbed into the cockpit of her X-wing. She grinned and waved, though they probably couldn't see her. "Artoo," she greeted her astromech. "Get ready for takeoff."

The little droid chirped happily in reply. He was as eager to get out of this snow and cold as she was. Snapping shut the canopy, Lucia strapped herself in and took the controls. "Let's get out of here."

Glad to leave the snow and ice behind, she steered her ship up and out of the atmosphere, into the stillness among the stars. The deep darkness reminded her of Ben's words: _You must go to Dagobah. Look for Jedi Master Yoda._

Lucia stared out at the stars twinkling against the blackness. Had it really been Ben? He had seemed so real, his voice so familiar and comforting. He was a Jedi, and maybe Jedi could come back from the dead to give messages. There was so much she still didn't know.

If there was another Jedi Master on Dagobah, he could be her only chance to learn of the Force now that Ben was gone. Hanna and Alaric didn't really need her—not right away. She sent them a vague message about "Jedi training," letting them know not to expect her at the rendezvous, then made an adjustment on her navcomputer. Somehow, she knew this was the right decision. Maybe the Force was guiding her.

Artoo's immediate question was translated by the computer, showing up as text on the screen before her: "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing wrong, Artoo," she said. "I'm just setting a new course."

"What?" the astromech asked. "Where to?"

She smiled at his worried tone. "The Dagobah system."

* * *

The Falcon lurched to port then dropped sickeningly forward. Hanna grimly struggled with the controls. They were _not_ going to die here! "Star Destroyers—two of them!" she shouted. "Coming right at us!"

"Captain Solo," Lucia's annoying protocol droid interrupted, "I noticed that—"

"Shut up!" She waved her hand impatiently at him, trying to focus on evading the Imperial ships.

"But, Captain—"

She spun around and pointed at the droid, her jaw tight. "Shut him up or shut him down!" Turning back to the controls, she said to Chewie, "Check the deflector!"

Chewie replied that the shield was basically useless, throwing in some colourful expletives to express his frustration.

She groaned. "Great. Well, we can still outmaneuver them." She aimed the Falcon directly at the nearest Imperial and held it steady; the other two Star Destroyers followed her, just as she expected. At the last minute, she dove down to skim underneath the huge ship. Not as maneuverable as the Falcon, the three Imperial ships were left struggling not to collide as the pirate ship shot away, followed by four TIE fighters. Hanna blew out a breath. "Prepare to make the jump to lightspeed."

"But, Captain!" C-3PO interjected. Everyone ignored him.

"They're getting closer," Alaric warned.

Hanna grinned. "Oh yeah? Watch this!" She activated the hyperdrive… and nothing happened.

"Watch what?" the prince asked from behind her.

She set her jaw, imagining the insolent expression likely gracing his face. "I think we're in trouble."

"If I may say so, sir," the golden droid said. "I noticed earlier the hyperdrive motivator has been damaged."

Hanna spun around again. "What? Why didn't you say anything? Never mind; don't answer that." It wasn't as if she had let him say anything. She stood up and pointed at Alaric. "Take the wheel, Your Highness. Chewie, with me. We've got a motivator to fix."

* * *

Hanna crouched inside an opening in the hold, examining the motivator. Thankfully, the damage was minimal. "Bring me the hydrospanners."

Chewie grumbled something about the Imperials, insulting their families back several generations as he turned to get the tool.

She grinned, then quickly sobered. "I don't know how we're going to get out of this one."

Chewie appeared above her, the 'spanners in one furry hand. Something struck the Falcon, and he lost his balance. The heavy tool fell, striking her a glancing blow on the shoulder.

"Ow!" She rubbed her shoulder with one hand, securing the 'spanners with the other. That was going to leave an ugly bruise. "That was no laser blast! Something _hit_ us."

The comm crackled, and Alaric's voice rang out, a note of panic under the polished princely speech. "Hanna, get up here!"

She grabbed the edge of the floor, hauled herself up and out, then ran for the bridge.


	4. Going In

Alaric stepped back, gladly relinquished the controls to Hanna and Chewbacca, more relieved than he wanted to admit. The view forward was a mass of huge floating rocks, bouncing off one another to spin slowly past them to either side.

"Perfect," Hanna said, much too gleefully. "Chewie, set two-seven-one. We're going in."

About to take the jump seat, Alaric spun around, his mouth falling open. " _What?_ You're not actually going _into_ an asteroid field?"

Hanna's grin reminded him of a rancor—all teeth and danger. Though, he had to admit she was much prettier than any rancor he'd ever seen. "They'd be crazy to follow us, wouldn't they?"

Another thump shook the ship, and he grabbed the seat, trying to keep his feet. What was she trying to prove? "You don't have to do this."

"Captain," Threepio put in, "the possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately three thousand, seven hundred and twenty… to one."

Hanna gestured impatiently. "Never tell me the odds!"

Alaric strapped himself into the jump seat. This was utter insanity. And yet, Hanna looked so alive, so vital. So beautiful.

* * *

Dagobah was wrapped in a thick layer of cloud, and Lucia could see no other option than to dive into it and hope she found the bottom in time to land safely. As the X-wing slipped into the soft white silence, it was as if she had gone blind. Panic threatened to grip her in its paralyzing hand but she pushed it away. If she could take out the Death Star with her eyes closed, she could do this. She fired the retrorockets to slow her descent, their deafening roar nearly drowning Artoo's anxious squeals.

A wet tearing sound reached her ears as thick veins slid over the ship's canopy, leaving streaks of greenish mud behind. Not that it mattered visibility-wise, since she couldn't see anything anyway. Relying on her instruments, she groaned when the scope went dead. With no choice but to trust her instincts, she pulled up the nose just as it broke the surface of a scummy pond. Dirty water splashed up over the canopy, drenching the ship and, for a terrifying moment, she thought they might be submerged. Then the water ran back, and the X-wing came to a shuddering stop half-in and half-out of the pond.

The engines sputtered and died, and Lucia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she grinned, popped the canopy open, and climbed out onto the ship's long nose, balancing carefully on the slick wet metal as she made her way through the thick fog.

As she reached the end of the nose, she could just make out the shore ahead. She slid into the water, which reached her waist, and slogged forward. Artoo followed, his constant stream of beeps and whistles obviously complaints.

"If you're saying coming here was a bad idea, I'm beginning to agree with you." She stepped from the water and gazed around at the dark jungle, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill. The sun had just set, and her wet clothes gave her no protection against the night air. "There's something familiar about this place… I feel like…"

"Feel like what?" a rough, high, almost squeaky voice interrupted.

She crouched and spun toward the sound, activating her lightsaber. A tiny, wizened creature stood hunched before her, wrapped in a grey-brown robe, leaning on a gnarled cane. His green, wrinkled skin blended with the lush jungle all around, and his large tufted ears twitched as he blinked up at her from narrow brown eyes.

"Hmmm." He eyed her saber with interest. "Away with your weapon. I mean you no harm."

Used to being able to read people easily, she was nonplussed to sense nothing from him. It was as if he was wrapped in thick dark cloth that hid everything beyond what she could see with her physical eyes. But he was so small—what threat could he be? With a mental shrug, she put her saber away.

His lips curved up into a smile, transforming his odd face into something cute, and he leaned on his cane and eyed her curiously. "I am wondering why you are here?"

Returning his smile, she went to one knee so she could speak to him face-to-face. "I'm looking for someone."

He splayed his little hand across his chest. "Found someone you have, I would say, hmmm?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, and she bit her lip. "Right."

"Help you I can," he continued solemnly. "Yes, mmmm."

She shook her head. What could this little creature know of Master Yoda? "I don't know. I'm looking for a great warrior."

"Ah," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Wars not make one great."

"Sure." She slid down to sit in the mud, resting her elbows on her knees. Her aunt and uncle used to say that too, but they had never been in a war. And now they were dead. "Whatever you say."

He tilted his head to one side and blinked slowly at her. "Help you find your friend I will."

"I'm not looking for a friend." She chewed on the inside of her cheek, pondering what she should tell him. But the Empire didn't have any kind of presence out here; no one did. If she wanted any chance of finding Yoda, she was going to need help, and this little guy might know something. She took a deep breath, and said, "I'm looking for a Jedi Master."

"Oohhh." He nodded, tilting his head to the other side. "Yoda. You seek Yoda."

"Yes." She leaned forward eagerly. "You know him?"

"Mmm." He nodded. "Take you to him I will." A chuckle shook his small frame. "Yes, yes. But now, we must eat. Come. Good food. Come." He turned and scurried into the jungle, chortling, clearly expecting her to follow.

She scrambled to her feet, and Artoo whistled a shrill protest as she took a step to follow the little alien. She stopped and turned back. "Stay here and watch the ship, Artoo. I'll be back soon." Then she plunged into the jungle after the little alien.

* * *

Alaric pushed the protective goggles up onto his forehead, and squinted at the valves he had just re-welded. He didn't know all that much about mechanics, but it looked like it should hold. Hanna had asked him to take care of this while she and Chewbacca replaced something called a negative power coupling. This was likely a very simple job that she thought he couldn't kriff up, but at least it gave him something to do.

He swiped at the sweat running down the back of his neck, then pulled the lever that would turn this thing back on. It didn't budge. Muttering a curse under his breath, he pulled harder, his sweaty fingers slipping on the metal grip.

Hanna stepped up beside him. "Here." She reached out toward the lever, her hand brushing against his and sending a shiver up his spine.

"I've got it." He clenched his jaw, trying to ignore her touch. As if she didn't already see him as a useless royal!

She stepped back, holding her hands up as if in surrender. "Hey, Your Worship, I'm only trying to help."

He gritted his teeth. "Would you please stop calling me that?" It sounded like something the Emperor would want to be called. He probably wanted to be worshipped. Alaric most decidedly did not.

Her lips tilted and she nodded. "Sure. Whatever you say."

He closed his eyes, his fingers tightening on the lever. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Come on." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Sometimes you think I'm all right."

"Occasionally—" The lever gave way, slamming his hand against the wall. "Ouch!" She reached out and freed his hand, then ran her fingers gently over his palm, sending shivers through his whole body. He swallowed hard. "What are you doing?" His voice was much shakier than he would have liked.

Her fingers stilled and she raised her eyes to his. "I'm checking for injuries. What are you afraid of?"

He met her eyes defiantly, trying to ignore the heat uncoiling within him. "I'm not afraid."

Her lips curved up at the corners. "You're trembling."

"I am not." But he was. He curled the fingers of his free hand into his palm to stop himself from reaching out to touch her.

Her smile widened. "You are." She stepped forward, closing the space between them and he groaned as her lips met his. Sliding his hands up her back, and forgetting what a bad idea this was, he lost himself in the feeling of her lips dancing across his, her body pressing against him, his fingers tangled in her thick dark hair. There was nothing else but this moment, this space, the taste and smell and feel of her.

"Captain! Captain!" A shrill voice cut through the fog in his brain, and he jerked back as if burned. Threepio stood in the doorway, oblivious. "I've isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

Hanna turned slowly toward the droid, her eyes aflame. "Thank you," she ground out, anger clear in every syllable. "Thank you _very_ much."

"Oh, you are perfectly welcome, Captain," Threepio said cheerfully. For a protocol droid, he was really not very good at picking up on social cues.

Alaric turned away, ignoring his baser instincts that cried out in dismay. Kissing Hanna was really not a very good idea, no matter how good it felt. He had nothing to offer her except a title that no longer meant anything, a dead legacy.


	5. Patience

The little alien's home reminded Lucia of Ben's hut—only smaller. Everything was about half the size that she was used to, perfectly suited to her host's small stature. He bustled about the adjoining kitchen, preparing something that smelled delicious.

He brought a plate to where she sat trying not to knock her head against the low ceiling or her knees against the cramped table. Her stomach growled, and she picked up a spoon. At least the spoon—and the portion—was regular size. "It looks delicious. Thank you."

He nodded eagerly. "Eat, eat. Good food, hmm?"

She discovered that she was very hungry. It had been a long time since she had eaten a real, home cooked meal, and her eyes prickled at the memory of her aunt. This was almost—almost—as good as Beru's cooking. She finally laid down her spoon, her plate empty. "How far away is Yoda?"

"Not far. Yoda not far. Patience." Her host brought his own spoon to his mouth, smacking his lips in appreciation. He was eating much more slowly than she had. "Why wish you become Jedi? Hmm?"

She blinked, not ready for the question. She had never really considered it before. "Well… I guess because of my mother."

"Ah." His eyes studied her keenly. "Your mother. Powerful Jedi she was, yes. Hmmm."

What? Who—or what—was this? "How could you know my mother?" she demanded, leaning forward with her elbows propped on the table. "You don't even know who I am."

He turned away with a sigh. "I cannot teach her. The girl has no patience."

" _She will learn patience_." Ben! Lucia just stopped short of leaping to her feet, and probably knocking herself cold on the low ceiling. She craned her neck to look around the tiny hut, but saw no trace of Ben.

"Hmmm. Much anger in her… like her mother."

Her gaze snapped back to her host:Yoda—he must be Yoda. She'd been so blind, so stupid. She opened her mouth, but couldn't find the words.

 _Was I any different when you met me?_ Ben's voice was gently amused.

"Hah." Yoda was dismissive. "She is reckless."

 _So was I, if you'll remember_.

Yoda turned back to face her, his eyes sharp. "Too old she is. Too old to begin the training." And now sounded as if he was simply reciting excuses, but without conviction.

She slid out from the table and knelt before him, determined to convince him. "But I've already learned so much."

The tiny Jedi Master's gaze pierced her and he tilted his head to one side and then the other, studying her closely. "Will she finish what she begins?"

"I won't fail you," she promised. "I'm not afraid."

"Oh, you will be," he replied. "You will be." And she felt her stomach drop at the certainty in his words.

* * *

Lucia pulled herself up onto a rise, using a thick vine to steady her footing. She stopped and wiped the sweat from her forehead. The air was thick and wet, clogging her breathing and leaving her clothes and hair sticking to her skin. She yearned for the dry air of Tatooine where the heat was often tempered by sharp winds. Yoda leaned forward from where he clung to a makeshift backpack he had fashioned for her in order to force her to carry him. "Run!"

Sighing, she jogged down the other side of the rise. Yoda chuckled, bouncing against her shoulders. She was starting to think he enjoyed torturing her. "A Jedi's strength flows from the Force." He flicked her ear and she slapped at his hand in annoyance. "Beware anger and fear: the dark side are they." His voice grew sad. "If once you start down the dark path, forever it will dominate your destiny. Consume you it will."

Maybe he testing her to see how short her temper was. "Ben said that Darth Vader was his apprentice before he turned to the dark side. Why would a Jedi do that? Betray everything and everyone they knew?"

"Hmmm." Yoda sighed deeply, as if he carried the weight of the galaxy on his tiny shoulders. "Quicker it is. Easier. More seductive."

She opened her mouth to ask another question, but stopped as a chill swept over her that had nothing to do with the heat of the jungle. Her eyes were drawn to a dead tree standing in a pool of dark, stagnant water. Giant, twisted roots framed the opening of a cave that seemed to draw the light into itself and extinguish it. "There's something not right here."

Yoda tapped her shoulder, and she crouched to let him climb down. He climbed onto a rock and pointed his gnarled walking stick at the cave. "That place is strong with the dark side. A domain of evil it is."

She shivered, unable to take her eyes away from the deep blackness. "What's in there?"

She could feel his gaze on her. "Only what you take with you."

She bit her lip. He meant for her to go in there. This was a test. She could do this. She had to. Ducking her head, she squelched through the dark water and entered the cave.

The darkness inside was like a living thing, reaching out tendrils toward her. She unclipped her saber from her belt and activated the blade. It cast a cool blue light that reached just far enough ahead that she could see where to put her feet. Silence settled in around her, broken only by the sound of her own breathing. There was a sense of unreality here, as if this were a dream.

A blood red lightsaber blade hissed into being ahead, and she stopped dead in her tracks. The grisly light illuminated the hooded figure of Darth Vader within the shifting shadows. For a heartbeat, they stood frozen, but then he rushed her, and she sidestepped, easily evading the crimson blade. As he passed, she brought her own blade around, and a rush of anger swept through her. This was the man who had killed her mother, who had ordered the deaths of her aunt and uncle.

The blue blade cut smoothly through Vader's hood, taking his head off cleanly, sending it rolling across the floor until it came up against the cave wall. The sense of unreality grew stronger as Lucia stepped forward slowly, yet this was no longer a dream, but a nightmare. The light of her saber fell upon the face within the hood and she flinched back, her finger tightening painfully around her saber hilt. It was her own face.

* * *

The Millenium Falcon burst out of the asteroid field, and was almost immediately attacked by an Imperial Star Destroyer that just have lain in wait for them. Hanna set her jaw and held onto the controls grimly, dodging the larger ship's bolts. "Ready for lightspeed?" she asked Chewie, who gave her an affirmative. She activated the hyperdrive and, once again, nothing happened. Part of her wanted to set her head down on the console and cry.

Alaric's dry voice asked from behind her, "No lightspeed?"

Her desire to cry instantly became anger. "The transfer circuits are working! Why is there no power?"

Threepio put in, "Captain, we just lost the main rear deflector shield. One more direct hit on the back quarter and we're done for."

She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. No choices remained. "Turn her around."

Chewie looked up, surprised and puzzled.

She reached for the shield controls. "I'm going to put all power in the front shield."

"You're going to attack them?" Alaric sounded terrified, but impressed despite himself, and she grinned fiercely. If this was how they were to die, at least she was going down fighting.

"Captain," Threepio protested, "the odds of surviving a direct assault on an Imperial Star Destroyer—"

"Shut up!" Hanna and Alaric spoke in unison, and her smile widened until it hurt.

* * *

Lucia closed her eyes, reaching out with the Force. She found the form that was the rock and carefully and slowly lifted it from the ground as Yoda had showed her. This would have been relatively easy by now, but Yoda had made her stand on her hands, upside down. Her arms, though strong from years of work on the farm, were unused to had begun to tremble almost immediately, and now, the ache was constant.

Yoda's stick rapped sharply against her elbow causing her to wobble. "Concentrate!"

A shrill whistle announced Artoo's arrival, and she lost her balance, falling in a heap. Artoo rolled closer, beeping frantically. "What—?" she said as he bumped into her, trying to push her toward the swamp.

Rolling onto her hands and knees, she pushed herself to her feet and followed him. He led her to the edge of the swamp where her X-wing lay—or had lain: only a few inches of the very tip of its nose showed above the murky water.

"Oh, no," she groaned, and the fatigue washed over her in a wave of despair. "We'll never get it out now."

"So certain are you." Yoda shuffled up to stand beside her. "Always with you it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?"

She frowned and rubbed at one arm with her other hand, trying futilely to massage away some of the pain. "Master, moving stones around is one thing. This is totally different."

"No! No different!" he insisted. "Only different in your mind."

She sighed heavily and straightened her back. "All right. I'll give it a try."

"No!" He rapped her leg with his stick. "Try not. Do or do not. There is no try."

She closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead where a headache was starting to form. _This_ was the great Jedi Master who had trained Ben? All he did was spout nonsense and make her do ridiculous things. She couldn't see how any of this would help her become a Jedi. "Okay, fine. No try."

She closed her eyes and reached out to the X-wing, feeling its presence inside the Force. It was just like the rock, only much, much larger. And slipperier. It slid in her grip, rocking off balance and heavy. It was nothing like the rock. Now not only her arms, but her whole body was shaking. Sweat dripped from her hair into her eyes, stinging, and she lost her grip, falling to her knees. The X-wing slipped beneath the surface of the water and vanished completely. "I can't do it," she panted bracing her hands on the wet ground. "It's too big."

"Size matters not." Yoda put a tiny hand on her shoulder. "Judge me by my size do you? Hm?"

She shook her head, trying to get her breathing back under control. Of course not. His size wasn't the problem; he simply made no sense. And he had been practicing this for much longer than she had. Perhaps he had forgotten what it was to be a beginner.

"And well you should not, for my ally is the Force." Yoda closed his eyes and folded his hands on top of his stick. "And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us." He opened his eyes and poked her shoulder with his stick. "Luminous beings we are—not this crude matter." He made a sweeping gesture. "You must feel the Force all around you: between you, me, the rock… everywhere! Even between this land and that ship."

She sat back on her heels and closed her eyes, shaking her head in defeat. "I can feel it, but I can't lift it."

She felt a surge in the Force, and her eyes shot open. Yoda had stepped forward, and stood on the shore, one tiny hand stretched out toward the water. He radiated power, shining like a tiny star. The X-wing appeared again, lifting slowly and silently from the swamp. She slowly rose to her feet, watching in speechless wonder as the ship floated majestically through the air and touched down lightly on the shore.

She turned to stare at him as he carefully folded his hands on top of his walking stick again. Their eyes met, and he bowed his head slightly then turned to walk back toward his hut. She followed slowly. How long would it take her to learn what she need to know? The war continued out there, the rest of the galaxy—and her friends—fighting and dying. There was no time.


	6. A City in the Clouds

Alaric leaned forward, watching through the viewscreen. Hanna had landed the Falcon _on_ the Star Destroyer, and the Imperial ship had lost sight of them, unable to distinguish the much smaller pirate ship from their own bulk. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a reluctantly impressed grin.

Hanna sat up, eyeing something on her instruments. "The fleet is beginning to break up. Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw, Chewie."

"Captain Solo, this time you have gone too far," Threepio protested. "Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances. The Empire may be gracious enough—"

Alaric reached over and turned the droid off and Hanna tossed a grin at him over her shoulder. "What are you going to do now?" he asked, trying not to grin back.

"Well, if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they'll dump their garbage before they go to lightspeed." Hanna's grin widened. "Then we just float away."

He nodded. "Good plan." It really was. There was little chance of being noticed among all the other trash. "Then what?"

"Then we've got to find a safe port somewhere around here." She spun her chair around to face him. "Got any ideas?"

He pursed his lips, thinking. "Where are we?"

Spinning back to her console, she tapped at the screen. "The Anoat system."

"Hmm. There's not much there." He wasn't about to admit it, but that was a system he was not at all familiar with.

"No," she agreed, tapping at her controls. "Well, wait. This is interesting. Lando."

He frowned. "The Lando system?" He'd certainly never heard of that.

Hanna laughed, not unkindly. "Lando's not a system, he's a man. Lando Calrissian. He's a card player, gambler, scoundrel. Old friend of mine."

An old 'friend'? Alaric ignored the twinge of jealousy at that. "Can you trust him?"

Hanna snorted. "No." She shook her head. "But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that."

* * *

Again Lucia was upside down, only her hands supporting her weight against the damp ground. This was getting easier every time she did it, though, and the strain on her arms was barely noticeable now.

"Concentrate," Yoda murmured.

She reached out and wrapped the Force around a case of equipment from her X-wing, then another, lifting them slowly into the air. Holding them steady, she lifted Artoo as well. The little droid whistled plaintively, spinning his treads uselessly.

"Yes. Good," Yoda said softly. "Through the Force, things you will see. Other places. The future… the past. Old friends long gone."

A rush of images surged through her, there and then gone, like a mirage in a sandstorm:

 _A city in the clouds; tall white towers gleaming in the sunlight._

 _A long room with a vaulted ceiling, lined with windows. Darth Vader waiting for something… or someone._

 _Hanna strapped to a table, her eyes wide and full of fear. An interrogation droid slowly approaching her._

 _Alaric walking down a long hallway at Vader's side, his face pale and eyes full of fear, his hands bound before him._

The breath returned to her lungs in a sharp gasp, and she fell over with a thump, her heart pounding. Artoo landed on his side next to the equipment cases, squealing. She struggled to her knees, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

Yoda shook his head at her. "You must learn control."

"I saw my friends… they're in trouble!" The images were gone now, but the memory was sharp, choking her with fear.

"Hmmm." He bowed his head. "It is the future you see."

"Can you see what will happen to them?" The idea of Alaric captured by Vader filled her with dread—for some reason, that frightened her even more than Hanna being tortured.

Yoda's eyes seemed to look right through her. "Difficult to see. Always in motion the future is."

She stood up, her hands clasped into helpless fists at her sides. "I have to help them."

Yoda rapped his stick sharply against the ground. "You are not ready. You must complete your training."

She shook her head, her throat tight. "If I wait, it may be too late."

* * *

Alaric followed Hanna down the Falcon's ramp onto the landing platform. Ahead of them, glistening white towers wreathed in clouds pierced the sky; on either side, a dizzying drop fell away into the distance. He swallowed hard, trying not to look down, but caught himself staring at Hanna instead, watching her walk ahead of him.

Making himself look away from her, he spotted a welcoming party approaching. A dark-haired, dark-skinned man led them, his shirt nearly the exact colour of the sky. A matching cape lined with gold hung to his knees over skintight black pants. Seriously—a cape?

Hanna stepped forward, her hand raised in greeting. This must be Lando. Alaric hadn't expected him to be so… he shook his head. What the kriff? _This_ was Hanna's old friend? And she mocked _Alaric_ for being a prince? This guy wasn't a prince, of course; he only _thought_ he was a prince. Alaric had seen his type before, and he found himself rolling his eyes at the man's wide grin of welcome.

"Why, you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler!" Lando shouted as he neared Hanna, his cheerful voice belying his words. "You've got a lot of guts coming here, after what you pulled." She stopped in her tracks, but he strode up to her and threw his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "So good to see you! Where've you been?"

Hanna laughed, hugging Lando back enthusiastically. Couldn't she see how fake he was? Alaric turned away, his hands closing into fists at his sides.

"Well." Threepio stepped up to stand next to Alaric. "He seems friendly."

Alaric gritted his teeth. "Yes. _Very_ friendly."

* * *

Hanna pulled back. It wasn't a good idea to let Lando hug you for very long—he didn't know when to stop. Fortunately, he also wasn't easily offended, so pulling away didn't hurt his feelings.

He grinned at her, letting his hands fall to his sides as she stepped back. "What brings you to Bespin?"

"Well…" She waved a hand back toward the Falcon. "Repairs. I thought you might be able to help me out."

He looked over her shoulder, and his mouth fell open in mock dismay. "What have you done to my ship?" His voice rose in horror on the last two words.

She snorted at his false panic. " _Your_ ship? Remember? You lost her to me fair and square."

But Lando was no longer listening to her—he had spotted the prince. She sighed as he brushed past her, his grin widening. He offered Alaric his hand. "Hello. Welcome. I'm Lando Calrissian, the administrator of this facility." He waved his other hand airily toward the city. "And who might you be?"

Alaric's eyes were wary, but he politely took Lando's hand. "Alaric."

Hanna approved that he didn't offer a surname or planet of origin. Despite knowing his dislike for the Empire, she wouldn't trust Lando as far she could toss an angry jaggalor.

Lando smiled. "Welcome, Alaric." And he bent and kissed the prince's hand.

Hanna choked on her laughter at the stunned expression on Alaric's face. The poor kid looked like he had been shot between the eyes with a blaster. He opened his mouth, then shut it, for once at a loss for words. Taking pity on him, she grabbed Lando's arm. "All right. All right. That's enough."

Lando turned wide, innocent eyes on her. "I was just saying 'hello'."

"Of course you were." She steered him toward the bridge that led to the city. "Give the kid a break. He's had a rough time lately."

He twisted his head to grin at her, waggling his eyebrows. "I could help get his mind off things."

She punched him in the shoulder with her free hand. "Leave him alone."

He sobered slightly, eyeing her speculatively as they entered the city. "I must apologize. Are you and he...?"

"Stop it!" She punched him again, harder.

He tucked her arm closer against his side, leading them through gleaming white and silver hallways with vaulted ceilings. "Then perhaps you and I could—"

She cut him off sharply, "Not interested."

He gave her a wounded look. "For old time's sake?"

"Hah!" She shook her head. "I'm immune to your charms, you old smoothie. I know you too well."

He chuckled, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

She grunted noncommittally and changed the subject. "How's the gas mine? Is it paying off for you?"

He heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. "Oh, not as well as I'd like. We're a small outpost and not very self-sufficient. And I've had supply problems of _every_ kind. I've had labor difficulties…" He trailed off as she tried to hide a snicker. "What's so funny?"

"You." She shook her head, grinning at him. "You sound like a businessman, a responsible leader. Who'd have ever thought it?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully as they turned another corner. "Yep, I'm responsible these days. That's the price you pay for being successful."


	7. What a Mess

Lucia loaded the last equipment case into her X-wing, avoiding Yoda's accusing gaze. The little Jedi Master stood on a log, watching her over where his tiny hands were folded on top of his stick. Finally, with Artoo safely in his place, there was nothing left to load, and she slowly turned around to face Yoda.

He shook his head disapprovingly, his long tufted ears wobbling. "Your training is not complete, Lucia."

She sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck. "They're my friends. I've got to help them."

A shimmering image faded into being next to Yoda, and Lucia stared in disbelief. It was Ben; he sat down on the log beside Yoda and leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees. "This is a dangerous time for you, Lucia," he warned. "You will be tempted by the dark side of the Force."

"Yes," Yoda agreed. "To Obi Wan you will listen. Remember your failure at the cave."

She knelt before Yoda, willing him to see that she had to do this. "Master Yoda, I promise to return and finish what I've begun. You have my word."

"It is you the Emperor wants," Ben said quietly. "Your friends are the bait in a trap set for you."

She met his eyes, as kind in death as they had been in life. Maybe she could make Ben see. He had always seemed to understand her. "And that is why I have to go."

He bowed his head, a deep sadness etched into the lines on his face. "Lucia, I don't want to lose you the way I lost—the way I lost Vader."

She was sure he had been about to say something else, something that felt important. She bit her lip, wanting to press him but feeling the urgency of time passing too quickly. She had to be gone, and fast, if she was to reach Bespin in time. Instead, all she said was, "You won't."

He nodded, leaning forward to place a ghostly hand on her shoulder, his eyes thoughtful. "Do you truly feel that this is what you must do?"

"If you end your training now," Yoda insisted, "if you choose the quick and easy path as Vader did, you will fall."

Lucia ignored him, holding Ben's gaze as she nodded. "I do."

He smiled, the lines in his face fading. "Then you must go. The Force is guiding you." Somehow, though she knew he was only a spectre, she felt his fingers tighten reassuringly on her shoulder.

Yoda smacked his stick against Ben's leg. "Only a fully trained Jedi Knight with the Force as his ally can conquer Vader and the Emperor!"

Ben looked down at the other Jedi, an amused glint in his eyes. "As we did when we faced them?"

Yoda narrowed his eyes at Ben and folded his hands on top of his stick once again. "Hmmm." He fairly radiated disapproval.

Ben turned back to Lucia, his eyes bright with amusement. He put his hand on her shoulder again, sobering as he met her eyes. "If you face Vader, I cannot interfere."

She nodded. "I understand." She reached up and squeezed his hand, then stood and turned away. "Artoo, fire up the converters."

"Lucia," Ben called after her, "don't give in to hate. That leads to the dark side."

"I won't." She climbed into the cockpit of the X-wing and began to strap herself in. The urgency to be gone was still there, but now it was tempered with the feeling that she could do this. Not just that she had to do it, but that she could.

"Strong is Vader," Yoda said. "Mind what you have learned."

"I will." She put her helmet on, her hands steady and sure. "And I'll return, I promise."

* * *

Alaric stood before the full-length mirror in his quarters on Bespin. He had been glad to get out of the dirty clothes he had worn since Hoth, and he supposed he should be grateful that Lando had provided clean clothing for them, but this was a little much. He grimaced at the wine-red tunic with matching pants—a little tight for his tastes—and a knee-length white cape with gold patterning. Honestly! What was with all the capes?

He turned away from the mirror, reaching up to unfasten the ridiculous cape, and the door slid open. Hanna stepped inside. She wore her usual uniform pants and white shirt, but cleaner than before, and her hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, clearly freshly washed. His fingers itched to touch it and he curled them into his palms.

She looked him up and down, and her lips curled into a mocking grin. "Nice outfit."

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically, yanking the cape off and throwing it on a nearby couch. "It's not like I had much choice. I notice you got to keep your clothes." He waved a hand at her.

"Lando knows me too well. He'd love to dress me up in some elaborate thing, but he knows I wouldn't wear it." She met his eyes, and a slow smile spread across her face. "I'd sooner walk around naked."

Heat flushed through Alaric, and he swallowed hard, trying not to imagine that. He turned away so she wouldn't see his burning face, trying to move casually. "There's something wrong here. No one has seen or knows anything about Threepio. He's been gone too long to have gotten lost."

"Don't worry." Hanna's hand fell on his shoulder, and he flinched a bit, turning to face her; he hadn't heard her approach. She squeezed gently. "I'll talk to Lando and see what I can find out."

He curled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. "I don't trust Lando."

She laughed, dropping her hand and turning away. "Neither do I, but he is my friend."

He wanted to ask if she and Lando were just friends, had ever been anything else, but he had no right; it was none of his business. The door sliding open saved him from having to formulate any kind of response. Chewie strode in, roaring furiously, carrying a packing case. A golden droid arm and leg hung over the side.

Equal parts relieved and disappointed at the interruption, Alaric put some more distance between himself and Hanna. "What happened?"

The wookiee set the case on a table, ranting in Shyriiwook. Hanna picked up a leg and stared at it. "You found him a junk pile?"

Alaric picked up Threepio's uncharacteristically silent head and sighed. "What a mess. Do you think you can repair him, Chewie?"

Chewie took the head from him, stared at it, and shrugged helplessly.

Hanna set the leg down and took Alaric's hand in hers. "Lando's got people who can fix him."

Alaric pulled his hand away, trying to ignore the thrill he felt at her touch, and waved at the box to cover his rudeness. "Lando's people did this to him!"

The door slid open again, and Lando sauntered in, thumbs hooked in his belt. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Alaric pushed the box behind the couch. "Not really," he replied, trying not to sound guilty.

Lando grinned, his teeth very white against his dark skin. "Will you join me for a little refreshment?" He gestured expansively, managing to swirl his cape with the motion. "Everyone's invited, of course." He bowed low to Hanna, offering her his arm, turned and hooked his other arm through Alaric's, and paraded them out the door.

This was shaping up to be one of the most uncomfortable experiences of Alaric's life—worse even than when he was Darth Vader's prisoner on the Death Star. At least with Vader, it had been clear that he was a prisoner. Lando's overly friendly touchy feely personality was starting to really grate on Alaric's nerves.

* * *

Golden shafts of sunlight slanted across the corridor between the sleek white pillars. Hanna peered at Alaric out of the corner of her eye. He walked stiffly on the other side of Lando, a polite expression frozen on his face. She bit her lip to keep from smiling. Lando's friendliness could be overwhelming if you didn't know how to handle him.

"So you see," Lando was saying, "since we're a small operation, we don't fall into the… ah… jurisdiction of the Empire." He grinned at Alaric, then winked at Hanna. She rolled her eyes back at him.

The prince nodded politely. "You're part of the mining guild then?"

Lando shook his head, not losing an inch of his grin. "Actually, no. Our operation is small enough not to be noticed… which is advantageous for everybody since our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."

Alaric's expression grew frostier. "I see." His voice was pure ice.

Hanna snorted under her breath as they turned a corner and approached a massive set of ornate doors. If His Worshipfulness disapproved of illegal activities, he should never have joined the Rebellion. "Aren't you worried the Empire will find out about this little operation and shut you down?"

Lando shrugged gracefully. "That's always a danger. But I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever."

Hang on. That sounded ominous. But before she could ask him what he meant, the doors swung open, and Lando propelled them into an enormous dining room. At the far end of a long, empty table, a dark hooded figure rose from the one occupied chair—Darth Vader!

Hanna had her pistol in her hand and was firing before Vader had finished standing up, but a black-gloved hand blocked the bolts, deflecting them into the wall. Then her pistol left her hand as if snatched away, and Vader was laying it on the table and gesturing toward the chairs on either side. "I would be honored if you would join us."

Hanna yanked her arm free of Lando and glared at him. Alaric had also pulled free and stepped away, but his eyes were on Vader.

Lando held his hands up palm forward. "I had no choice. They arrived right before you did. I'm sorry, Hanna. I really am."

Hanna shook her head in disgust, turning her back on the man she'd thought was a friend to face Vader. "So am I."

* * *

Alaric struggled against the stormtroopers, a blazing anger burning through him. Hanna shook her head at him in warning, her chin held high as two troopers dragged her away. A black-gloved hand fell on his shoulder, and he glared up into Vader's shadowed face. "What are you going to do to her?" he asked through a jaw so tight it hurt.

Vader's unsettling yellow-gold eyes studied him for moment, as if she were considering whether or not to answer. Something flickered in the amber depths, but it vanished so quickly he couldn't be sure what it was or if he had imagined it. "She will be taken to Jabba the Hutt."

He felt the blood drain from his face, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Lando spoke first, uncharacteristic anger in his voice. "That was never a condition of our agreement!"

Vader's head turned slowly toward him. "Perhaps you think you're being treated unfairly?" she said quietly.

Lando paled, taking a step back, his gaze dropping to the floor. "No." Alaric glared at him. Spineless idiot.

"Good," Vader replied. "It would be unfortunate if I had to leave a garrison here." She turned away, propelling Alaric down the hallway, two stormtroopers following at a respectful distance. Her black robes contrasted sharply with the white floor and walls. "I am sorry about your friend, but I have already given my word to the bounty hunter."

Alaric's head jerked toward her, and he stumbled. She easily steadied him, slowing her pace to give him time to recover. He regained his footing quickly, but continued to watch her. Why would she be sorry about Hanna? Of course she could be lying, but the sincerity he sensed would be difficult to fake.

"Your parents are Prince Bail and Queen Breha of Alderaan, are they not?" she asked.

He clenched his jaw against the pain that rose up to choke him. His hands curled into fists. "They were. Before you killed them."

She glanced at him, and this time he was sure he saw regret in her eyes. "It was Tarkin who gave the order."

He stopped walking and turned on her, shaking with anger and grief. "Are you really trying to make excuses? After all the lives _you've_ taken?"

She put a gloved hand on his arm, holding his eyes. "I did not wish to cause you pain."

He wrenched his arm away from her. "Why? You don't even know me!"

Her gaze dropped and she took a breath as if about to dive into something. "You are adopted, aren't you?"

"How could you possibly know that?" Though they had never lied to him about his birth, the Organas had allowed everyone else to believe that he was their blood. He had never felt like anything less than their blood. Only a few had known the truth, and he couldn't imagine anyone betraying him to the Empire like this.

She nodded as if he had confirmed something, raising her eyes back to his. The eerie yellow seemed to be mixed with something cleaner now. "It was not an official adoption. You were given to Bail as a baby… by a Jedi."

For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Vader had led the Purges, hunting down and killing Jedi throughout the galaxy; if she believed that he was the child of a Jedi… what would she do? He opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. How could he deny something he didn't know?

She laid her hand on his arm again, her gaze intense. "The Jedi who gave you to Bail was my master. He betrayed me, and stole you and your sister from me." She paused, took another breath. "You are my son."

"No." He was shaking his head, backing away from her, nothing but roaring in his ears. "That's not true. That's impossible."

Anger flared like flame in her yellow eyes, and she grabbed his arm again. "Until you accept the truth, you will not leave my side. Do you understand?"

He couldn't speak, couldn't think, could do nothing but follow numbly as she dragged him away.


	8. I Know

The cell door slid open, and Hanna slowly rose to her feet. Lando stood in the opening, flanked by two Bespin guards. Her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "Lando," she said, her voice ice.

"I'm sorry, Hanna." He spread his hands helplessly. "I didn't mean for this to happen—I had no choice."

There was always a choice. Not always a good one, but 'no choice' was only an excuse. "Where's Alaric?" she demanded, her voice cracking.

He flinched slightly and shook his head. "I don't know. Vader took him away personally."

She raised her fists bound before her, and he took a step back. Smart man. "Vader will kill him. He wants us dead."

"He doesn't want _you_ at all." Lando bit his lip and looked away. "He's after somebody called Skywalker."

"Lucia?" she whispered, her throat closing off.

"I guess so." He shrugged—the useless idiot. "He's set a trap for her."

Hanna blew out her breath in frustration. "And we're the bait. You fixed us all pretty good, didn't you?" Turning her back, she folded her arms tightly across her chest, biting down hard on her lower lip. "Get out of here, Lando."

She heard the door slide open then closed as he left. What a mess. She had called Lando a friend. And she had never imagined that he would sell her out to the Empire. Digging her nails into her palms, she furiously told herself not to cry. She should never have come here.

* * *

Mere hours later, she was dragged from her cell by stormtroopers. Though she tried to follow their route through Cloud City, she was quickly lost. All the bright white corridors looked the same. How could Lando—how could anyone—stand living here?

Flickering orange and black shadows licked across the stormtrooper's white armour as they ushered her into a shadowed room that had little in common with the stark whiteness. The bounty hunter Boba Fett stood to one side, his full helmet covering his face.

The troopers shoved Hanna forward onto a circular platform and she stumbled, nearly falling into the large hole in the centre. A chill drifted from the dark interior. And what the hell was that for?

A hand caught her arm, steadying her, and she looked up into Lando's pained eyes. Yeah, he should be upset. She hoped he suffered. She clenched her jaw, wrenching her arm out of his grip. "What's going on, _buddy_?"

He swallowed hard. "You're being put into carbon freeze."

She stumbled back, breath catching in her throat. No. _Kriff_ , no. Her eyes were drawn to the ominous hole in the centre of the platform. That's why—

A wild howl snapped her head around. Chewie struggled unsuccessfully toward her, an ever-increasing group of stormtroopers and Imperial officers piling on him, beating him with their guns and fists. Strapped to his back in pieces, Lucia's protocol droid frantically begged the wookiee to stop.

Her heart sank. She couldn't lose Chewie. "Chewie! Stop! Do you hear me? _Stop!_ "

He went still and ducked his head. She had never seen him look so lost.

Taking a step toward him, she put a hand on his arm, trying to keep her voice steady. "The prince—Alaric—you have to find him, look after him, okay?"

He nodded, and his shoulders slumped. Impulsively, she hugged him, then turned away—and stopped, her heart in her throat. Vader strode into the room, the prince at his side. Alaric stared at nothing, his eyes dead. Then he met her gaze, and a tiny spark of life flickered in the depths. Ignoring everyone else, she threw herself at him, her arms circling his neck, their lips meeting in a blaze of desperation that left her knees weak. She pulled away before he could respond, smiling at his stunned expression. At least he no longer looked like a dead man walking.

He grabbed her hand as the troopers pulled her away, a wild light in his eyes. "I love you," he said fiercely.

She grinned, warmth radiating through her as she allowed herself to be dragged away, her eyes never leaving his. "I know."

* * *

Lucia crept down the stark white corridor, sliding along the wall. The architecture didn't give her many places to hide, but at least it was no longer daylight, giving her a few shadows to use for camouflage. A door slid open ahead, and she flattened herself against the wall.

A bounty hunter wearing a helmet that covered his face and head emerged, guiding a large flat slab of something on a repulsor with two stormtroopers following him. Unfortunately, her black clothing stood out clearly against the white walls, even in the dim light. Spotting her, they drew their sidearms and opened fire.

She threw herself to the ground, drawing her own pistol and returning fire. She managed to take out one of the troopers before a bolt found her shoulder, and her fingers lost their grip on her blaster. The bounty hunter stopped and aimed a weapon at her, but then slowly lowered it back to his side. He tipped his head down, appearing to be struggling unsuccessfully against some invisible force to raise his arm again.

A dark figure strode into the hallway, black robes billowing, gloved hands raised. The second stormtrooper fell to his knees, clawing at the bindings of his helmet, his breath a rattling wheeze. "I said I wanted Skywalker _alive_." The voice that emanated from the deep, shadowed cowl was cold and angry.

"Yes, m'lord." The bounty hunter stopped struggling and stepped back, head bowed.

"Get out of my sight." Vader waved a hand and the bounty hunter flinched, then turned quickly and left, pushing his odd cargo before him.

Lucia's fingers closed around her lightsaber hilt. Her mother's killer stood before her. She didn't care how many stormtroopers there were. She was going to kill Vader or die trying.

The dark hood turned toward her. "The Force is strong with you, young Skywalker." There was something odd in that voice now, the anger gone.

Her hands shaking slightly, Lucia raised her saber, igniting the blade. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and the shaking stopped, leaving only a cold core of anger and determination.

* * *

Alaric's eyes flickered back and forth, searching for a way out, a way back to Hanna. He and Chewie were surrounded by stormtroopers, following Lando through the corridors toward Vader's ship. His mother's ship. No. He didn't—couldn't—believe that.

They rounded a corner and stopped, face-to-face with a group of white-uniformed people who pulled guns on the stormtroopers and disarmed them. One of them handed Lando two blasters, and he passed one off to Alaric. "Hold them in the security tower," Lando said, "and keep it quiet. Move."

As Lando's people marched the stormtroopers off at gunpoint, Alaric stared at Lando. "What do you think you're doing?"

Lando gave him a look that implied he was rather stupid. "We're getting out of here."

Alaric's fingers tightened on the blaster grip. He couldn't get Hanna's face out of his head. She had gone into the carbonite with her head held high. So beautiful, and so brave. "Do you really think that we're going to trust you?"

Lando shrugged and undid Chewie's bonds. The wookiee immediately grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

Wheezing, Lando managed, "I had… no choice…"

"No choice?" Alaric demanded. "Do you know how many people survive carbonite freezing? Less than half! She said you were her friend." There was something fiery trying to claw its way out of his chest, up his throat. "She said you hated the Empire."

"There's… a chance… to save… Hanna…" Lando gasped, his fingers digging at Chewie's furry hands.

The wookiee released him, growling something that sounded like a question. A distant part of Alaric's mind wished vaguely that he knew Shyriiwook. But it was a faint thought against the roaring storm inside him. He took a deep breath. He had to get control of himself if he was going to help Hanna.

Lando rubbed at his throat with shaky fingers. "At the East Platform," he wheezed. Apparently, he understood Chewie.

Once more in control of himself, Alaric gestured imperiously. "Lead the way."

* * *

Blue blade met red in a furious shower of sparks. Lucia advanced on her opponent, rage rushing through her veins, a fire that felt like pure power.

Vader easily parried every blow, yet steadily retreated. "You have learned much, young one. But you are not a Jedi yet." With a twist of the wrist, Vader's saber hooked Lucia's, twisting it out of her hand and sending it flipping through the air.

Lucia circled around, backing away, trying to see where it had landed. A flicker of fear threatened to shake her resolve. Vader had several years of training and experience on her. Lucia could easily die here. Setting her jaw, she ducked through a door, following the clatter of the rolling saber hilt. It didn't matter if she couldn't win. She would go down fighting.

Vader followed her into a darkened room lit only by rows of dim orange lights. "Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker. You know it to be true."

"No!" Lucia backed down a set of stairs, placing her feet carefully on each step, her eyes never leaving Vader. "I'll never join you." The stairs ended on a small round platform, then suddenly there was nothing under her feet. She fell into a cloud of ice, a cold that burned into her lungs, worse even than Hoth.

Holding her breath as she hit the bottom, she closed her eyes and bent her knees, reaching out for the Force. She leapt up, soared out of the hole in the floor—and kept going up. Grabbing for something to stop herself, she caught a mess of hoses hanging from the ceiling, and spun around like a flag in a sandstorm.

"Impressive. Most impressive." Vader stood still, hood tilted up toward her, saber held down to the side.

As she had done in the ice cave on Hoth, she reached out for her saber, then let herself fall. Landing lightly on the platform as the hilt smacked into her palm, she activated the blade again.

Vader advanced slowly toward her. "Obi Wan has taught you well."

Lucia winced. Obi Wan wouldn't be happy with her, attacking in anger. He had said that was the way to the dark side. And she had promised that he wouldn't lose her. The only way she would beat Vader was if she let go of her anger.

* * *

Running out onto the landing platform, Alaric had never thought he would be so glad to see the familiar shape of the Millennium Falcon. Hanna's ship. He ran for the ramp, trying not to think about Hanna, about the look on her face as she disappeared into the freezer.

A burst of blasterfire sounded behind them, and stormtroopers burst out, shooting wildly. Alaric dove into the ship as Lando returned fire.

The ramp slammed shut, and the sound of the engines starting up rumbled through his bones, setting his teeth on edge. He lay on the deck for a moment before he pushed himself to his feet and made for the cockpit.

* * *

Lucia's saber met Vader's again, and sparks danced like a brightly colored swirl of sand in the wind. An ache in her arms reminded her that she was only a beginner at this. The fear returned, sharper now. She was going to die here.

"You are beaten," Vader proclaimed. "If only you knew the power of the dark side."

"I don't care to!" She tightened her fingers on her saber hilt. Behind her, she sensed another edge, this one falling off into a much deeper chasm.

Vader's blade came down again, and Lucia raised hers to block but her fatigue caused her to misjudge. The red blade slid sideways and sliced through the bones and tendons of her wrist. An agonized scream rang in her ears as she fell to her knees, clutching her right arm against her chest with her left hand, vaguely aware that it was she who was screaming. No. Her mother had been brave, and she would be too. Swallowing the scream, she raised her head to face her death.

Vader's saber hit the floor with a clatter, and the dark figure fell before Lucia in a cloud of swirling robes, black-gloved hands reaching out, then drawing back, fingers curling into fists. The voice from within the shadowed hood was a choked whisper, almost in pain. "I didn't want—"

To her stunned disbelief, Lucia sensed regret… and grief. She peered into the depths of the shadows inside the cowl, trying in vain to make out features, an expression, something. A moment ago, Vader had been a faceless monster, a thing to be destroyed. But now… Lucia was unable to ignore the humanity of the person under the hood. No matter how much she wished she could.

A sigh that was nearly a groan escaped Vader. "Obi Wan never told you about your mother?"

"He did." Lucia closed her eyes for a moment. The pain and anger was still there at the reminder. "He told me you killed her."

Vader reeled back, almost recoiling. "Lucia… no." A black-gloved hand rose and pushed the hood back, revealing a tired yet beautiful—and strangely familiar—face. Long dark-gold hair fell over black-cloaked shoulders. Piercing amber eyes met hers. "I am your mother."

"No. _No_." Lucia shook her head, tucking her injured arm close to herself and pushing herself back with her left hand, away. Ben wouldn't have lied to her. Not about this. Not _this_. But if he thought he was protecting her… no. He wouldn't—he couldn't. She blinked furiously, refusing to allow the burning in her eyes to become tears. He was the one person who had never lied to her. No.

"Lucia. My… daughter." Still kneeling before her, Vader out held a hand, palm up. "You can destroy the Emperor. It is your destiny. Join me, and we can rule the galaxy together." Her voice shook but her hand was steady.

Lucia looked up into that face that was so like hers, and knew that it was true. She closed her eyes and, with one more push, she fell into the chasm behind her.


	9. Why Didn't You Tell Me?

The air rushed past Lucia, the walls closing in around her. Then, finally, her boots struck a large grating, jarring her entire body and knocking it loose. Her stomach emptied into a bottomless pit. There was nothing beyond but clouds and the empty blue sky. Still holding her injured arm tightly against her chest, the fingers of her remaining hand scrabbled wildly for purchase on the slick walls as she slid out into the open air. Somehow, she managed to catch hold of a spindly and delicate instrument of some kind as she spun around into the wind, barely avoiding the fall to the planet's surface far below.

With the wind whistling in her ears, she closed her eyes, holding on grimly. She couldn't die here, like this. "Ben," she whispered, desperate. "Ben, please!" There was no answer save the howl of the wind. Her breath sobbed in her throat and she tucked her throbbing right wrist under her left arm as she pulled herself up with her left hand and shaking legs, seeking a more secure position on her precarious perch. Every muscle in her body was aching and trembling, threatening to give way at any moment, sending her plummeting.

She closed her eyes, searching for something, anything, in the Force. A face, a name, floated into her mind. It made no sense, but she had no other options. "Alaric!" she whispered into the wind. "Alaric! Please, hear me!"

* * *

The Falcon soared away from Cloud City through the atmosphere of Bespin. Alaric stared out the window, seeing nothing but Hanna's face as she was lowered into the carbon freezing chamber. She had held his gaze until the end, and there had been terror in her eyes, though she had kept her chin up and her lips firm.

 _Alaric!_ He sat up suddenly, looking around. Lucia's voice was so clear, so near, he almost expected to see her standing next to him. But that was ridiculous. He shook his head. Lucia was nowhere near here. Then, he did see her. Hanging from the bottom of Cloud City, in pain and slipping, about to fall. _Alaric! Please, hear me!_

"We've got to go back," he burst out, leaning forward.

Lando turned around from the controls, frowning. "What?"

He had to make them see. "Lucia's here. On Bespin."

Lando stared at him. Probably thought he was crazy. "We can't go back. Vader's there."

Alaric closed his eyes, took a breath, turned toward the wookiee. "Please, Chewie? I know it sounds crazy, but I really do know where she is." Please believe me. Please.

He studied Alaric for a moment, his clear blue eyes thoughtful, then he nodded and turned back to the controls, swinging the Falcon in a graceful banking turn back toward Cloud City.

Lando reached out toward the controls. "But—" The wookiee growled at him, and he snatched his hand back, holding both palms forward toward Chewie. "All right. All right."

Alaric leaned over Chewie's shoulder, directing him without knowing how he knew, following the sense of direction that pressed into the inside of his skull, peering through the clouds until—there! He grabbed the wookiee's furry shoulder, pointing, unable to speak, unable to breathe.

"Someone's up there." Lando was pointing in the same direction. He turned to stare at Alaric, his face a mask of stunned amazement.

"It's Lucia." Alaric refused to meet Lando's awed gaze. "Slow down, Chewie. We can get under her. Lando, open the top hatch."

Nodding, Lando stood up and left the cockpit, his hand brushing against Alaric's arm as he passed. Alaric ignored the brief contact, focused on Lucia, whose fingers were slipping. She was about to pass out and lose her grip completely. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from telling Chewie to hurry. The wookiee knew what he was doing, and they were almost there. Lucia was going to be fine.

Just as they got below her, Lucia fell, and Chewie dipped the Falcon to catch her. Two TIE fighters appeared, diving under the other side of the city, and opened fire, speeding toward them. They had been lucky to get this far without being spotted. Alaric grabbed the intercom. "Lando?"

"Got her," Lando replied. "Let's go."

Alaric closed his eyes and let out a breath in relief as Chewie turned the ship away, speeding through the clouds. The TIEs gave chase, firing madly.

"Alaric."

He turned around. Lucia swayed on her feet in the cockpit doorway, clutching her right arm against herself with her left, her face twisted in pain. Leaping to his feet, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He buried his face in her neck, and he could no longer hold back; a sob tore up through his throat, shaking his whole body. She slipped her right arm out from between them and hugged him close, her frame also shuddering with sobs. He didn't know who was comforting whom… and it didn't matter.

* * *

Lucia lay on a cot, her right wrist wrapped in a protective cuff, the pain faded to a dull shadow. She couldn't stop staring at the empty place where her hand should be. It felt wrong, like a tear in reality. The ship lurched, throwing Alaric off balance and he turned to leave, his hand lingering on her shoulder. "I'll be back."

She sat up and watched Alaric vanish through the door. "Ben," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Ben, why didn't you tell me?" There was no answer—not that she had expected one, and she bent her head, her gaze returning to her maimed arm. Flexing the fingers of her left hand, she stood up and went to the cockpit. Alaric and Lando were at the controls, struggling to escape a star destroyer. A familiar presence dominated the Force, reaching out toward her from the Imperial ship, and she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall behind them. "It's Vader."

The Falcon surged forward into hyperspace, sending Lucia stumbling into the jump seat. She fumbled one-handed with the straps. Vader's—her mother's—presence receded, and she bowed her head, her lips moving though no sound escaped. "Ben… why didn't you tell me?"

* * *

Her eyes unfocused, Lucia watched the medical droid work on her new mechanical hand. It didn't feel right, more like a tool than a part of her body. The comlink beeped, and she picked it up with her left hand and flicked it on.

Lando's voice: "We're ready for takeoff."

She nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Good luck, Lando." She tried to inject some warmth into her voice, but there was nothing in her to give.

"When we find Jabba the Hutt and that bounty hunter, we'll contact you," he said.

She glanced over her shoulder to where Alaric waited, his arms folded tightly across chest, radiating love and fear for Hanna, like a beacon in the Force. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous point on Tatooine."

"Alaric." Lando's voice softened. "We'll find Hanna. I promise."

The prince nodded and turned away. Lucia closed her eyes and swallowed. Not long ago, Lucia had thought that maybe she loved Alaric, but now she felt nothing but cold emptiness. "Take care, you two," she said into the comm. "May the Force be with you."

The medical droid pricked the fingers on her prosthetic hand, and tiny sharp pains shot up her arm. She flexed the fingers, made a fist, and relaxed. It worked just like the hand she'd lost, and, physically, it felt no different. And yet, it felt less like a part of her than did her lightsaber. "Thank you," she told the droid, her voice cold and mechanical.

She pushed herself to her feet and went to stand next to Alaric at the window of the Alliance ship. Outside, the Millennium Falcon swept past them, then turned to soar away into the stars.


	10. Epilogue - A New Player

Alaric stood beside Lucia, watching Hanna's ship—with no Hanna onboard—disappear into hyperspace. From the moment Lucia had burst into his cell on the Death Star and announced that she was there to rescue him, she had become an integral part of his life. If he lost her, it would be like losing a part of himself.

And yet, he loved Hanna, and the thought of losing her was like a vise around his heart. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to sort out his confused emotions. But it was useless, and he sighed in defeat a moment later. If only Lucia was family, and not Vader!

As if she sensed his distress, Lucia stepped closer, slipped her arm around his waist, and laid her head on his shoulder. Once again, they were supporting each other.

* * *

As the stars whipped past the Falcon's forward window, Lando leaned back in his seat and looked at Chewie. "So," he said thoughtfully, "Hanna and the prince, eh?"

Chewie eyed him sidelong, but said nothing.

Lando grinned and shook his head, propping his feet up on the instrument panel and clasping his hands behind his head. "I don't blame her, you know? He's very pretty."

Chewie growled something under his breath that sounded like, " _You_ would notice."

Lando burst into laughter and winked broadly at the wookiee. "I notice everybody."

Straightening up to his full height, Chewie glared down at Lando, an ominous rumble beginning somewhere in his chest.

Laughing, Lando waved his hands in a placating motion. "I'm only kidding. I would never dare to notice you." Chewie slowly sat down, watching Lando out of the corner of his eye. Lando hid his grin behind a hand. Teasing Chewbacca was so much fun, but if he went too far, the wookiee might just kill him, and then where would Hanna be?

He sobered quickly at the thought of Hanna. This was about her. His childish desire to get a rise of Chewie would just have to wait.

* * *

"What is your bidding, My Lord?" The Emperor's Hand stood before Palpatine, hands at his sides, back straight, eyes forward, waiting for instruction.

A moment of silence stretched out, Palpatine making his servant wait, as he often did, reminding him who was in control here, as if Markus hadn't learned that long ago. His mind and body quiet from years of practice, he waited patiently. Finally, Palpatine spoke, his voice creaky as if with great age: "There is a new player on the board. And my apprentice has been… compromised." He bent his head to fasten Markus with his fierce yellow gaze. "Find Lucia Skywalker. And bring her to me."


End file.
